About two years ago we adopted Georgia, a black lab mix who we think was about two at the time. She came with the name, and we like it. She also came with a bit of a thing about other dogs. Or rather, she developed it within days of coming to live with us.

When we get around other dogs, Georgia doesn’t typically growl or bark. She breathes heavily at them. It’s a bit bizarre but also aggressive. We’ve worked with a trainer, and she’s gotten better, but she still doesn’t like other dogs. It’s very disappointing because we planned to take her everywhere with us. But she’s our Georgia, and we’ve found ways to cope.

One way is that I walk her early in the morning. I walk her Monday though Saturday and take Sunday off. (Andrew takes her for a run on Sundays.). We live very close to a university, and I feel safer walking there, so that’s where we typically go. I love the feel of a university generally. The excitement of fall. The quiet determination of winter. And the anticipatory energy of spring.

Even early in the morning, I get a flavor of what’s going on at the school. It starts in the late summer with moving trucks, early risers ready to get going with the new school year. In the fall there are always a lot of joggers, too, both from the university and the surrounding neighborhood. After the weight of summer’s heat and humidity, people are ready to get out and be active. After a few weeks that activity lessens, but there is usually a steady stream of students walking to the campus gym in the early mornings. I’ve always imagined these are student athletes heading to a required team workout, but I don’t know. In every season, on the weekends especially, I’ll see team buses outside the sports arena ready to take teams to their competitions.

In the winter there is less activity, but I occasionally see the hard-working grounds crew up early to clear the parking lots and sidewalks before the academic day begins. There are always a few die-hard dog walkers, like me, and some joggers no matter the weather.

Then comes spring, with its hope. More joggers and walkers appear, ready to shed their winter weight. Students get out earlier, too, going to the lab or the music practice room or to study with a friend. And then there’s graduation weekend. The tents go up nearly a week before, needed to accommodate the swell of people coming in to celebrate their students’ successes. Cars line the streets early on commencement day, and then they all disperse for lunches full of pride and joy. And then the moving trucks come again. This time, they leave large piles of garbage by the street for pickup, old couches and small refrigerators and bottles and bottles and bottles.

And then campus becomes quiet, restful, during the summer. Except for the construction, which happens year-round but becomes more urgent in the summer. Because there’s usually a fall deadline. Get the building done to welcome the students in the fall. The students will be back soon.

That’s how things have gone for more than a decade, since we moved here. But not this year. Students left for Spring Break and never returned. First, classes were moved online for two weeks, and then for the rest of the semester. Graduation was postponed at best; it’s uncertain what will happen.

I’m sure most of the students came back for their belongings, but I didn’t see it. There was no early morning rush to get going, on to better things. Campus fell silent, but not in a restful way. More like a coma, or an unexpected power outage. It felt like someone holding their breath, waiting for the chance to fill their lungs again.

This morning, though, the stillness felt different, less artificial. It felt more still than stilted. More ready to rest. The grounds crew has still been working. There are fresh mulch and flowers in all the beds and fertilizer on the grass. The beautiful grounds will be ready to welcome students back whenever the time is right.

Maybe I’m projecting my own feelings onto the campus. Probably. In my household we’ve been social distancing for three weeks now. And we’re settling in. We’re falling into new routines: online dance and guitar classes, comfort with video calls for work and school, a sharing of household duties that only works if we’re all home together. We finished an eight-night Harry Potter marathon and are following that up with finally watching all the Avengers movies. Two nights down, twenty to go.

I’m prepared for the long haul I think we’re in for. And campus is, too.